Chapter 10: Do it

Third POV

"I’m going nowhere!" Elia shouted from behind his locked door. "If you wanna leave, leave without me. How much longer are we supposed to keep running?"

Marco paced the hallway, stopping abruptly to drop his fist against the wood. "Don’t make me pull you out of there. Things’ll get ugly."

"I said I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just run off if you force me."

Marco stepped back, winding up to kick the door in, before a calm voice intervened.

"Let him be."

Orso sat nearby, a man in his late twenties whose collected demeanor barely masked a faint, amused smile.

"They’ll come back. I know they will," Marco muttered urgently, walking over to drop onto the sofa beside him.

"Then we prepare. If they show, we handle it." Orso eyed him, trying to read his reaction.

Marco just leaned his head back, shutting his eyes with a heavy exhale.

A second later, the lock clicked. Elia peeked his head out. "Are we still leaving?"

Orso shook his head.

"Yes!" Elia bounced out of the room, triumphant.

"If you get someone pregnant, I will disown you," Marco murmured, eyes still closed.

"Where did that come from? I’m not like you, going around fuc..."

Marco’s eyes snapped open. He snatched a sofa pillow and hurled it square at Elia’s chest. "Shut your mouth before I kill you."

Elia sneered. "You started it. Besides, I don’t even have a girlfriend."

Marco narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing him. "You’ve got someone in mind, don’t you? That’s why you don’t want to leave."

Elia bit his lip, flicking a strand of hair over his ear shyly. "Yeah, but..." His voice dropped to a mumble. "I don’t think he’d ever notice me."

Marco laughed mockingly, before the sound died instantly as horror crossed his face once Elia’s words replayed in his head. "He? It’s a guy?"

"Yeah. Sort of." Elia pressed his lips together, cheeks flushing pink.

"Who?" Marco shoved himself up, blocking his path. "Tell me."

"What’s with the freak-out? It’s not like you haven’t fuc... slept with men. I just said I like him."

Marco hissed. "Exactly- I don’t catch feelings. Half the guys on this planet are poison. You’ll cry, and I won’t be lending you my shoulder."

Elia snorted. "Please. Like you aren’t part of the ’poison’."

"I want his name."

"No, I’m not-"

Marco lunged, grabbing a fistful of hair and dragging him down toward the sofa. Orso calmly rose and relocated to an armchair, watching the cat and dog fight silently.

"Still not talking?" Marco pinned Elia’s wrists with one hand, dropping the other straight to his waist.

A beat later, ruthless tickling commenced.

Elia shrieked, laughing and cursing him out in a breathless mess. "Get off me, asshole!"

By the end of it, Elia still had not cracked.

***

***

Many days later

"Come on, Tony! Don’t be a chicken!" Marco’s voice echoed through the private club room they had booked out.

"Shut up, I’m doing it." Tony was shirtless, his low-slung trousers riding bare on his hips to flash his boxer waistbands.

He hovered over another shirtless man flat on the table, shots of tequila balanced squarely on the guy’s nipples.

"Yeah, baby. Take it well," Marco urged, dropping to one knee beside them.

A small crowd of guys egged them on, while James sat quietly on the sofa, nursing his vodka.

Tony grinned, lowered himself down, and plucked a shot glass straight off the man’s nipple with his teeth before throwing it back.

"Damn, yes," Marco drawled, sounding entirely uninnocent.

"You sound like a horny whore," Tony rasped, prepping for the next round.

"I am. I can’t wait to get out of here and jerk off."

Tony downed the second and third shots back-to-back, prompting a roar from the other guys. "Freaking legend. Didn’t spill a drop."

"Easy," Marco sneered, dropping down to sit on the floor.

"Oh, yeah? Your turn. But..." Tony hovered closer to the man beneath him, a wicked gleam in his eye. He continued adressing Marco as he clearly lusted over the stranger man under him. "We’re changing the rules."

Without warning, Tony kissed the man- not a casual brush of lips, but a deep, hungry tangle of tongues.

"I’m in," Marco challenged.

Tony straightened up, stepping right in front of Marco. "Simple rules. You have to deep-kiss the very first person you open that door and look at. And you keep making out until I can see your fucking bulge."

The room erupted, banging fists on the table. "Do it!"

Marco chuckled, locking eyes with Tony. He polished off his vodka in one gulp, set the glass down, and muttered, "Fine."

He strode toward the door, charm coming as second nature. The rest of the group trailed a few paces behind.

Marco gripped the handle, swung it halfway open- and froze at the sight of a familiar, infuriatingly striking face.

"Fabio," he breathed.

Fabio stood in the hallway, glaring in silence at the sight of Marco.

Marco smirked, even stepped closer. Without no hesitation, he murmured to him, "I wanna kiss you so bad."

Fabio’s hard glare flickered, shifting instantly interest, interest for this same very man he had been searching for, for days. He stepped closer closing the little gap there was. His lips then parted, and he mouthed back, ’Do it.’

Smirking devilishly, Marco did not wait. He grabbed the back of Fabio’s neck, pulled him close, and crashed their mouths together in a hard, consuming collision that left no room to breathe.